


The Illness

by ReynaRuina



Series: Ponytail Dib Au [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst, Delirium, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Psychological Self Abuse, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, and hurt back again lol, lots of, man these tags make it look like such a mess of a ficgdhsjsdkf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22724929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReynaRuina/pseuds/ReynaRuina
Summary: (Part of the Ponytail Dib Au on Tumblr)Dib's not feeling too good. He hasn't felt well in years, but this might be worse than all other times.
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Ponytail Dib Au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634140
Comments: 59
Kudos: 310





	The Illness

**Author's Note:**

> MASSIVE WARNING BEFOREHAND: This is part of a long format story told on Tumblr through both writing and artwork, I'm simply dumping this part in specific here because the Tumblr word limit won't allow it to go on full there and I rather not break it up (also tagging triggers here is way better). I highly suggest you check this AU out on reynaruina.tumblr.com/tagged/ponytail-dib-au before proceeding with this read (especially the fic titled The Blizzard, this is in direct correlation of that). If anything you've seen on those tags interest you I highly recommend you check this out, it's Absolute Angst and Slow Burn Town.  
> For anyone who just rather read this first anyways, here's the jist of the AU: Dib is about 27, living alone and working shitty jobs, suffering from depression, alcoholism and suicidal thoughts galore. The only thing that still brings him any kind of happiness is to battle Zim for the fate of the Earth. Zim has been in love with Dib for years and has renounced the Tallest after discovering the truth behind his exile, and now wishes to take over Earth with Dib. Except he's aware the only reason Dib has to keep living is to fight with him, so he pretends to still be his enemy and stages battles just to give him something to live for, all while trying to take care of him behind his back. Dib also tends to get very drunk and wander into Zim's house at night, hang out, sleep on his couch, then not remember a thing the next day. Dib is also in love with Zim, but his depression and self image issues prevent him from making a move.That's the TL-DR of this, if you wanna know more (again) check the AU on Tumblr :D

_“Damn it.”_

The glass of water slipped from Dib’s feeble grasp and tumbled to the floor with a ‘cling,’ spilling its contents around. Dib grunted with frustration.

“At least it’s flowing _away_ from the mattress,” he thought, watching the tiny puddle of water expand slowly. It was a small victory, but it at least meant he wouldn’t have to rush to dry it. Lord knows he wasn’t in a position to do so.

He rolled around in his covers, pulling them over while curling into himself, coughing lightly into the pillow. His power was cut off again and as such his heater wouldn’t work, so the apartment was especially cold. He had gotten close to hooking himself up to a nearby landline, at least temporarily, but by the time he was halfway done with it the coughs had started and the fever quickly followed.

For a whole day already he’d been bedridden, the fever spiking high enough at times to make him pass out. Once he realized he really couldn’t get up for more than five minutes at a time he tried to sleep as much as possible, hoping against hope that whatever he’d gotten would sort itself out in due time. But the hours awake crawled by painfully slow, and the noises of his empty stomach weren’t helping him rest.

Dib felt so _pathetic_ . Once again he found himself in a precarious situation with no one to turn to for help, and he felt like a fool for even falling ill like this in the first place. Knowing his situation, he should have been more careful, made sure to cover himself properly while going outside, spending as little time out during flu season as possible. But, in a way, it felt almost inevitable. One thing he had learned over the years of trying to live alone was simply that, if something could go wrong for him, it would go wrong. Every. _Single_. Time.

He stared at his phone, dead for half a day already, and sighed. He shouldn’t have sold the battery backup to buy booze. He should have swallowed his pride, sent a message to his sister to let her know of his situation. They didn’t see each other often, but she had gotten him out of a couple tight spots before, and there was a good chance she’d have done something this time as well.

At least he could have tried; at least there could have been a chance. Knowing his luck, maybe not too big, but a chance nonetheless. But he had taken too long deciding, and ended up watching his phone hopelessly die.

Honestly, the silence was the worst part. Even if he had no service, at least having a machine at hand that could output some noise or music or just distract him a little could improve his situation tenfold. Now, on top of being bedridden, he was at the complete mercy of his inner demon.

God, how could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so reckless? It would have been so easy to avoid this situation if he’d taken just an extra moment or two to make sure he was protected, but nope. In all fairness, it was hard to remember to protect a body he hated so much, but still, it was his only vehicle for getting around.

_“Come on, be honest now. You wouldn’t have taken care of yourself even if you didn’t hate the face in the mirror. You just suck at taking care of everything, less of all you. Good-for-nothing loser.”_

Dib let out a shaky breath, reaching for the glass again, already having forgotten that it had spilled. He got his hand wet, and chastised himself further.

“You just knocked it down! Did you forget already?! Are you seriously this fucking stupid?!”

Another, shakier breath escaped his lips, right before another coughing fit. This one went on for a while, leaving him breathless, shivering, and with a pained throat. He laid back on the pillow with teary eyes stuck to the moldy ceiling, wishing more than ever that it would just collapse on his face. His eyes drifted, eventually, from the ceiling to the wall next to his mattress, and the single picture stuck with duct tape to it…

And he quickly wished he hadn’t.

Zim. Oh God, Zim. He had been doing such a good job of not thinking about him for like half a day, and it only took seeing the stupid photo to remember. So STUPID!! This was why he had taken down most of the others, only kept that one at hand for… ugh… UGH!!

He didn’t want to think about Zim, not here, not now. But, as with most stuff in his life as of late, he was set to suffer and he had no say in the matter.

And it _was_ suffering, because the…bastard…sure knew where to stick the knife and how exactly to twist it. Sometimes, even literally.

He brought a trembling hand to his shoulder, feeling the small indentations of a fresh bite and the roughness of old, half healed ones. He noticed new marks every few days, felt them fresh every time he woke up on Zim’s couch (and sometimes when just in his own bed).

He had began to run for dear life every morning he awoke in that house. He didn’t want to linger on the soft bedsheets, always smelling clean; the fluffy pillows under his head; the plate of breakfast left by the foot of the couch, that he often ran over on his way out the door. The combination of all those things with the bites on his neck were slowly driving him insane, and he was sure it was all part of Zim’s plan.

It had to be. He had to think it was. He couldn’t entertain any other possibility.

It almost made him want to avoid the place completely at all times. Not even send a drone in, not even make drive-bys at odd hours just to get some readings on the house’s power use. The astringent smell of cleaners and clearly alien materials was so present around him after those nights, even well into the next day, that he felt like he could smell the whole house by just looking at it.

But he knew he had to keep going there. There was no other way to be informed of what Zim was up to on a particular week. The last battles coming forward had felt particularly… easy. That was never a good sign. Coupling that with how weirdly smug and forward Zim had started to act around him, it felt like the alien had an ace up his sleeve that he was just waiting to unload on him. And everything Zim was doing—the bites, the breakfast plate, the fluffy pillows—all seemed to be just a way to soften Dib up. Make him easier to digest. Make the blow land harder once the gig was up.

But the moment still hadn’t arrived, and it was torture to just wait. And think. And imagine what this could all be for.

And fight to silence that little voice—that tiny, insistent, pained, pleading voice inside him that, against all reason and odds, still wanted to believe this was all exactly what it looked like.

“He likes you. He cares about you. He wants to see you get better.”

“That’s impossible.” The demon and Dib spoke with the same voice. “It’s a lie.”

It was a lie. A big lie. A trick. A ploy...

_…no matter how much he wanted it not to be._

Maybe, he could entertain the idea that Zim wanted to see him get better. He loved a challenge, after all, and Dib was his biggest adversary to date. Zim was proud too, and would logically want to take all the credit of taking Dib down at the best of his game. If Dib was down in the dumps, powerless and ill, squashing him down once and for all wouldn’t bring Zim any glory.

That much he could believe. _That_ much made sense.

But everything else the tiny voice kept whining about? Nope. Not a chance. This voice was nothing more that the part of him that had already fallen for Zim’s deceit, and he wouldn’t allow any more of him to do so.

He needed to be vigilant, careful, especially with how… vulnerable he was.

“Ugh. This would be so much easier if I wasn’t in love with that idiot.”

But he was. He knew he was. He couldn’t bring himself to attempt any lasting threat to Zim, couldn’t reveal him to the world in a serious manner, couldn’t even actually go out of his way after a fight and just cuff him for once. Zim always got away, and was always back a week after. It’d be so much easier if Dib could just finish the job after winning a battle, put in some extra effort and get rid of the Zim problem for good. After that, exactly how many people would be willing to deny the existence of aliens once he released the tape of him dissecting the corpse of one? It could be his ticket to a better life, after all…

But that’d mean harming Zim, killing him, and just the idea of Zim being gone brought him tremendous anguish.

Zim was all he has to live for anymore. Fighting him, talking to him, seeing him, was all that ever brought him any semblance of joy. And yes, it was mostly all a symptom of his heart sickness, but it still was the one thing that made him feel anything in this eternal white noise that had become his life.

So he just kept pushing back every week, hoping to last enough for another round. He knew he was putting the life of the whole planet, billions of people, in jeopardy by not getting rid of the alien conqueror set on invading the Earth.

But Zim…Zim was all he had. Even if he could never really have him, even if it was stupid to pretend it could be possible, still he was the one thing making him open his eyes every morning.

If Zim was gone, so was he.

“And yet, you being gone would be the best thing that could happen to him. He’d finally take over Earth. If you really love him so much, why don’t you just kill yourself and let him have it? It’s all he’s ever wanted, and you’re keeping him from it. He’s the only person you care about and he’d be _one hundred percent better_ with you gone.”

Dib coughed again, feeling his throat parched and his chest aching. He curled into himself once again, mulling the idea over.

Zim wanted to kill him himself, but to be honest Dib didn’t believe he could bring himself to become an opponent worthy of murdering anymore. And the more Zim lied to himself thinking he could, the longer it’d take him to take over.

The window was right there. He could crawl up to it. He could just…

“Jump.”

He rose on his bed, staring at it. Tried to move towards it, slowly, but a noise outside froze him in place.

It was the metal scraping up the building walls. It was the most familiar sound he knew.

_“Oh, no.”_

The window opened up with little struggle or ceremony, leaving Dib no time to react, and the Irken closed it quickly behind himself after entering to keep the worst of the winter chill out. His luminous pink eyes searched in the dark for a while, features barely visible in the darkness of his room.

“Dib?”

He wanted to keep quiet, the night of the blizzard suddenly so fresh in his mind. Maybe he could sneak down to lay on his back without him noticing, maybe he could pretend to be asleep again. Maybe Zim would…do… what he did that time, again.

But the fear spoke for him, pushing a gasp out of his throat as his skin became a prickly mess. Zim’s head snapped towards him, watching him sit pathetically on the mattress.

Grunting, Zim reached for the wall and tried the light switches. Dib bit his lips.

“The power’s cut off,” he said, and it hurt a lot. His voice sounded raspy and the words felt like sandpaper scraping his throat. Zim turned to him, approaching as he pulled those devious metal legs inside the PAK again.

“You’ve been here this whole time?” he asked. Dib swallowed. Speaking like this to Zim, in the dark…it didn’t do wonders to his nerves.

“I’m… I’ve been sick,” he stated, trying to disguise the cough that came out after his efforts of speaking in a Clear and Not Intimidated tone.

Even in the dark Dib could see how Not Convinced Zim was. To be fair, he was standing pretty close now.

Oh God, and now he was reaching for him. Dib could only jolt as the back of Zim’s hand made contact with his face, first his forehead and then his cheeks. He felt burning, and not because of the fever anymore.

“You’re very hot,” Zin stated. Dib hated himself for taking those words the wrong way. “Humans shouldn’t be this hot. This is harmful for you.”

“Well it wasn’t my idea to get like this,” Dib retorted, suddenly feeling the wall against his back. He hadn’t even noticed when he had begun to back away, but it probably started because Zim kept creeping closer and closer.

He still was. Eyes fixated on him. Antennae vibrating in his direction, as they often did when they got close. Dib wished he knew what those vibrations meant; it was probably a good thing to know.

“When was the last time you ingested anything of substance?”

The question took Dib by surprise, even as he relaxed when Zim finally backed away from him to look around.

“I uh… Yesterday, I think.” It was very difficult to talk. Every word felt like a sharp spoon scraping the inside of his throat. Zim grunted in annoyance, and Dib jolted again as he saw the PAK open up and Zim reach inside with a hand. A small ball of light came out, suddenly illuminating the whole room with a dim, yellow glow. Zim placed it on his kitchen counter and it flopped, as if it were made of Jell-o.

Now it was bright enough to see a little better, especially near Zim, who was on his PAK legs once again and rifling through Dib’s cabinets. Dib frowned, not yet over the shock of having Zim around him in private without getting into a fight.

“Where do you store your food?” Zim asked as he peered into the fridge. Dib coughed, feeling the little voice inside say something. He ignored it.

“I only have…h-have…only… ramen left,” he said, gesturing to a cardboard box set next to a mug and his electric kettle on the counter. Zim walked over to it, examining the contents.

“Is this _all_ you have?” he asked, in what sounded to Dib almost like an accusatory tone. Dib shuddered, holding tight onto the covers draped around him, trying to remember where he’d left the shiv he always carried with him while out. He feared he might need it at some point soon.

Zim growled something that sounded like “should’ve brought food myself” as he began to tinker with the kettle, fishing a ramen packet from the box and reading the instructions on the back. Dib suspected what was coming, and despite the inherent danger in trying to consume something Zim had made, he was smart enough to recognize when he didn’t have a say in the matter. His mind was still trying to play catch-up with all this, befuddled with the situation he was in, and his body sure was in no position to fight Zim off.

“Just…toss away the n-noodles, just make the b-broth alone. I don’t… can’t swallow much,” he attempted to at least let Zim know, but another violent cough cut him off. He heard Zim swear something in Irken, suddenly by his side again and gently…gently…palming him on the back.

If nothing, the tenderness of the gesture quickly knocked him out of the coughing fit. His heart had begun to race as well, and Dib felt like such a loser. “He only wants me to be at the top of my game again. That’s it,” he mentally repeated, trying not to notice the way Zim’s hand lingered on his back for a moment before Zim walked back to the kitchen counter.

Dib watched him fiddle with the kettle for a good while, connecting some wires from his PAK and getting it working somehow. He watched him carefully pick at the noodles from the package and set them aside, dumping the rest into the mug and adding the water once it was hot. Zim found a spoon and began to stir the whole ordeal, blowing into it, and Dib felt his insides melt. The sight of Zim standing by his counter, stirring a mug of ramen broth, carefully trying to cool it down for him…it seemed like a scene from a dream. He wasn’t yet convinced this wasn’t all a dream, it could very well be. Only the sharp pain on his throat and the fever in his body assured him that that was not the case, although the buzzing in his head threatened to disagree.

Zim walked over, finally, mug and spoon in hand. Dib tensed up, for a moment fearing that Zim was about to dump the scalding liquid on him, but no such thing happened. Instead Zim scooped up a bit of broth in the spoon and blew on it, carefully, before bringing it close to Dib’s lips.

“Open up,” he whispered.

Dib didn’t even feel like telling him it wasn’t necessarily, he could just sip from the mug, he shouldn’t have to do this. He didn’t even stop to think. Moved seemingly by the beating of his desperate heart, he leaned forward with his mouth wide open. Zim slowly slid the spoon in, hand slightly shaking, and Dib was delighted to find it cool enough not to hurt.

The very first sip didn’t taste like broth at all, but ambrosia. Dib let out a soft moan, closing his eyes, whole body trembling with the sensation. He savoured the small portion before swallowing, staying put for a moment, overwhelmed.

He’d been needing this for so long. All of this. Not just the broth.

When he opened his eyes, he found Zim staring at him. And smiling.

It was like nothing he’d seen before. It seemed impossible to him, even. This wasn’t a devious or evil or smug smile, Zim was clearly and genuinely happy. A deeper green color painted his cheeks, and Dib realized that was indeed a blush.

Something deep inside of him exploded, coming from the same place as the tiny voice. The warmth began to spread, akin to the fever, but healing instead. This smile was nurturing him more than the food.

And yet, his body tensed at the sight of the smile. Entirely out of reflex, given that any other of Zim’s smiles had never meant anything good, but Dib quickly regretted it. Zim took notice almost immediately, and his smile withered on the spot. Zim’s eyes avoided him, antennae flat against the skull when a second ago they seemed to reach towards him. Dib felt a pain inside difficult to explain.

Zim scooped some more broth and offered it up. Dib met him halfway this time, watching him closely, pain expanding in his chest now. He felt guilty. He wanted the smile back. He wanted…

Zim fed him a few more spoonfuls of broth before Dib couldn’t take it anymore. Zim’s saddened expression after having witnessed that miraculous smile was completely unbearable for him.

“I can take it from here,” he whispered, reaching to hold the mug with care. Zim let go of it and stepped back, eyes still avoiding the human, noticing the puddle of water next to the bed. He quickly busied himself as Dib drank his broth slowly, watching Zim put the empty glass on the counter and grab a dish towel from a drawer (how did he know those were there?…) to clean the puddle up. Zim didn’t stop there, however, picking random trash from around the apartment and tossing it into the bin as well as throwing the clothes Dib had discarded on the floor on a pile to the side.

Zim…was _caring_ for him. It dawned on Dib, suddenly, and even though his mind had latched onto a solid reason why he would want to do this, seeing it happen with his own two eyes was… so surreal. It felt impossible still, and as Dib tried to organize his thoughts in the swamp that his mind had turned into, it struggled still to process what his eyes swore was true.

Zim, cleaning his dirty counters with the dish towel. Zim, putting extra thick gloves on to wash the pile of dishes sitting in his sink. Zim, fishing out rotten bits of vegetables from his fridge to toss into the trash. Dib stole a look towards his computer set up in the corner, with all the data he’d stored over years of studying Zim and the Irken race. Zim could so easily destroy it all now, the work of over a decade gone in an instant, forever crippling Dib’s ability to foil his future plans for global domination while Dib was too weak to stop him. But Zim paid them absolutely no mind, focused on his task of….well…doing chores around his apartment, apparently.

Dib swallowed the last of his broth and set the cup aside, curling up into the sheets with his back firmly against the wall. He needed answers. Even if all that came out of Zim’s mouth was lies and deceit, he couldn’t take this uncertainty any longer; he had to ask.

“What…are you doing?”

“Picking up garbage from your room full of garbage.” The response was dry, Zim didn’t even bother to look up as he searched the floor for more bits of paper and empty ramen packets or cans of beer. “I would prefer to sweep, but I don’t think it’d be a good idea to get any dust flying up with you like that. Do you have a vacuum?”

Dib shivered. His heart beat fast.

“That’s not what I… What I meant. _Why_ are you… what… what are you doing _here?_ ”

Zim sighed with exasperation, tossing an empty liquor bottle into the quickly overflowing trash bin. “I’m cleaning, Dib! I’m being your cleaning drone for the day. If you feel like repaying me later, I can call you when Gir has another one of his ‘painting accidents.’ That’s about equivalent to this toxic wasteland you call an ‘Ap-artment.’”

“ _Ugh! Zim!_ I don’t… I don’t mean what are you 'doing’, I mean…” He coughed a bit, the words hurting so much on their way out. The coughing fit quickly grew, however, until he couldn’t stop and breathing became difficult. He doubled over on himself, faintly hearing the sound of something dropping and quick feet running towards him as Zim’s hands were on him again, pounding at his back with painful force. And then rubbing, up and down, with firm strokes over his lungs.

The cough finally stopped after a while, Dib’s breath ragged and body shaking from the effort. He took in deep breaths, watching Zim grab the glass from the counter and rinse it in the sink before filling it up with fresh water and quickly bringing it over. All in silence, just staring at him.

Dib grabbed the glass from Zim’s hands without hesitation, gulping down the contents while his breathing slowly steadied. He hadn’t even stopped to think if Zim had slipped something in the water while he wasn’t paying attention, and it honestly didn’t matter to him right there. The fresh water brought some solace, and the broth in his stomach made him feel a bit less like dying, but the pain behind his eyes and the heat all over his body were becoming difficult to bear.

Zim’s hands were on his face again. All Dib could do was close his eyes.

“You’re burning.” His voice sounded hurt, somehow. “Where are your meds?”

“I’m not taking… anything.”

“You need treatment. This could be dangerous for your feeble human body.”

“Good riddance then.”

It was meant to sound like a joke. Zim wasn’t laughing. Just held onto his face, harder.

“I’m taking you to a human hospital.”

Dib chuckled.

“They’ll toss me…out with the trash as soon… as soon as t-they see I have no insurance. Don’t bother.”

Zim growled. “I’ll make them treat you! They won’t have a choice.”

_“Don’t_ … Zim, _fuck,_ don’t even think.”

Zim’s hold on his head became tighter.

“Never mind that. I’m getting you _home_. I’m kidnapping a doctor, I have better equipment at my base anyways. I’ll make sure he treats you.”

Dib shook his head, fear climbing up his legs.

“I’m not…Not letting you…”

The laugh that came back wasn’t unexpected. Zim’s metal legs slowly emerged, and Dib began to shiver again.

**_“I’m not asking for your permission.”_ **

They began to tussle right away. Zim was strong and determined, but Dib knew all his weaknesses. Pulling on the antennae and biting on the fingers were surprisingly effective strategies to use on a hardened Irken soldier, it seemed.

“Ugh!! Ouch!! Stop fussing, you worm!! I won’t get the doctor, ok?! I’ll just heal you myself!!”

“That’s even worse!!”

“Whah—do you want me to kidnap a doctor or not?!”

**“NO!!”**

“Then what DO you want?!”

**“I want to stay here!!** **_L-let go of me!!”_ **

Groaning with frustration, Zim tossed him back onto the mattress.

_“Fine_ . Have it _your_ way, pig-stink. But I’m taking a sample of your blood.”

Dib didn’t even get to say “don’t you dare” before Zim’s PAK produced another metal leg with a syringe-like artifact at the tip. He reached for it, with intentions of breaking it, but Zim quickly held his arm tight and sunk the needle in.

“Ouch!! **You asshole!!”**

The leg pulled back inside Zim’s PAK quickly after it took a bit of blood, not even leaving a prickle mark behind. Dib freed himself from Zim’s hand and pressed his legs up to his chest defensively, ready to kick Zim in the face if he tried anything else.

“Come on, that wasn’t so bad. Don’t be a baby,” Zim chastised. He grabbed the empty mug and glass and brought it over to the counter, just to give Dib some space if nothing else. “Well, I need to take this sample to the base now.”

Dib, who was staring at Zim with betrayed anger, immediately slumped down at the words. “You’re leaving?”

“Not for long. Just gotta dump your sample on my chemical analyzer back at base and see what you have. The computer should be able to synthesize any drugs you might need, and figure out a treatment.” He walked over to the windows, staring at Dib. “I’ll be back in an hour, tops. Don’t move from here, and for the love of Irk keep yourself well covered. Even if it gets too hot.”

_“Fuck off,”_ Dib barely managed to whisper, the sudden pain of Zim’s parting making it difficult to answer with anything proper. Zim sighed and nodded, before opening the window and leaving just as he had come.

Suddenly, Dib was alone again. Suddenly, there was silence all around him. He stared at the window where Zim had left, almost like expecting him to come back right away, but no such thing happened. Dib just sat on his bed, in the empty room, feeling his head slowly fill with a buzz.

Then, the thoughts started trickling in.

_“He’s not coming back.”_

The wind outside seemed to be picking up a little. Dib huddled up on his covers.

Had he poisoned the water? Dib didn’t see anything, and the water tasted just normal…or did it? He wasn’t paying attention.

“He’s poisoned you and is waiting for it to take hold. Leaving you to die on your own.”

Dib swallowed in dry. The taste of broth still lingered on his mouth. His heart jumped at the memory….that smile….

He was smiling. He was smiling while feeding him. He was happy to see him eat.

“It’s all part of his ploy.”

His chest hurt at the thought. The image of the happy smile threatened to turn poisonous, and Dib almost wanted to cry.

_Please_ , no. Don’t ruin this smile for me.

“He’s taken your blood. He has your DNA. He could do all kinds of evil things with it. You’re not safe.”

He was never safe, that wasn’t anything new. But…he felt safe. For a moment, while Zim cleaned and he drank his broth, while he saw him cook, while he fed him… he’d felt safe.

“It’s a **_LIE.”_ **

He felt safe. And…cared for. Just for a bit. And now Zim had gone to get him meds for his fever, maybe bring something more? Food, perhaps?

“He’s only gonna bring you _further misery_. Don’t lie to yourself.”

Dib bit his lips. The shivers started again, fever spiking up, too hot to bear. He let go of the covers.

Zim had gotten him these bed covers. That night of the blizzard, he’d tucked him in with the covers he had stolen from someplace, and then snuggled up to him to keep him warm.

And kissed his…kissed his face.

“It’s a lie and you’re falling for it. This is what he wants. It’s his most devious plan yet. He knows you like him, don’t forget that.”

“Maybe this is his way of… reciprocating?”

The tiny voice dared to show up. Dib wanted to cling to it.

“What the fuck would he even see in you?! **_Have you forgotten how much of an unlovable freak you are?!”_ **

The little voice had no answer. Dib felt it vanish. He wanted to cry.

“He just wants to get you healthy for the next battle. Or murder you while you sleep. Or torture you while you’re weak. Could be anything at this point, but it’s not love.”

Dib wanted it to be love. He wanted it so much it hurt.

“He doesn’t love you. _He never will. No one ever did, no one ever will._ Your own father couldn’t even muster up love for you, who are you to demand it from your nemesis?”

Dib doubled over himself again, tears streaming down his face. His whole body felt on fire, like his pupils were about to melt out of their sockets.

“You’re unworthy of love. Of any kind. You don’t even know what it is. If you did, you’d know what’s best for Zim.”

Dib whimpered, tears streaming down copiously. He barely glanced at the window, so difficult to see through them.

“He’s better off with you dead. The best that could happen to him is for you to die. He’s not gonna kill you himself, he feels too sorry for you. You’re pitiful to him, he can’t understand you’ll never be the adversary he deserves. You need to do this yourself, it’s the only way to make sure.”

Dib was lying on his side now, eyes fixated on the window. It shouldn’t be that difficult to lift. He had an hour to do so, at least. _If_ Zim even came back in the first place.

“He’s gone through the trouble of taking care of your sorry ass, this is the least you can do to repay. He’ll be the happiest invader ever once you’re out of his way.”

Dib crawled towards the window. This… this would make Zim happy. He wanted to make him happy.

“It’s the one worthwhile thing you can do with your pathetic existence. **_Hurry up now.”_ **

Dib let out a small whimper, heart hammering in his chest. His fingers touched the cold glass.

————–

Fifty minutes later Zim crawled back inside, immediately noticing the emaciated body wrapped in the covers clinging to the windowsill, still as a rock. A scared shriek escaped him, leaving aside the big box he’d carried inside and scooping Dib up on his arms.

He put his antennae to his chest. The heartbeat was there, as well as the breathing. Zim let out an anxious but relieved sigh.

“You absolute mess of a human being,” he chastised in a tender tone, brushing Dib’s hair off his face. He brought him over to the bed and checked him all over, finding his fingers a little frosted for having stayed on the cold windowsill for so long. Quickly wrapping him up entirely in the bedcovers, he began to rub his hand between his, warming the cold fingers up, while metal tentacles from the PAK reached for the box and brought out its contents.

After getting to base and leaving the sample on his lab to examine, he had put together an assortment of items Dib desperately needed. Cleaning products, an air purifier, a portable generator, a week’s worth of food. He was planning on getting as much done on Dib’s house as he could, leave his habitat as clean and stocked with easy to consume lunches as he could. Part of him was afraid, knowing Dib’s terrible mental state, of what being this overt with his desire to help would do to the human’s psyche; to be fully honest, though, he was too scared to care. Dib had looked, by all stretches of the imagination, like he were about to die. Every word struggling out of Dib’s mouth, every coughing fit, every haphazard attempt at rejecting Zim’s help had felt like a nail was being driven into the core of his being.

Zim had seen this before, in the academy, during off-world training. In those hunting expeditions through hostile alien wilderness, where they’d have to track down a massive beast and wear it down with weeks of persistent harassment until its will was naught but gone. Right before the final blow, no matter how fierce and wild these beasts had shown themselves to be at the start of the hunt, they always by the end looked so… docile. Zim was sure he’d managed to pet one, once, out of curiosity. It stared at him with empty eyes, no attempt to swipe at him or dig its teeth in his arm. Just pure, unadulterated surrender.

That was what the Empire aimed for, what it expected every invader to be able to accomplish, not with single beings but entire populations. Complete docility, born not out of fear but rather a realization that there was no other way but the Irken way.

All beasts looked especially docile the moments right before death. And humans were beasts, after all; fairly advanced beasts but beasts nonetheless. And Dib had always been the wildest and smartest of the bunch for Zim, seemingly untameable while growing up, always a step ahead despite his species’ shortcomings. Watching his decline over the years had felt like those hunts, except Zim wasn't the hunter. It was just Dib hurting himself without knowing how to stop and Zim not knowing what to do to help. Seeing him tonight, in his bed, displaying towards Zim the calmness of a monster close to death…it filled his being with fear.

And once the blood test results came back, the fear became wholly justified. Zim hurriedly synthesized the necessary medicine and copied the treatment down, braving the cold outside winds once again with his precious load in tow. He hoped it wasn’t too late already…

And luckily, it seemed like it wasn’t. Dib had passed out next to the window (what was he doing out of bed? Was he… waiting for him to return? Had he really missed Zim that much?) but his vitals seemed stable. Body hot all over and breath a little pitched, though, with a whistly undertone that reminded Zim of the serious problem at hand. He brought a syringe with part of the medicine out of the PAK, uncovering Dib’s arm and easily finding a vein on the underside before slowly sinking the needle in. He kept soft pressure on the entry point as he pumped the liquid in, observing the wound close almost instantly after the syringe was removed.

“This’d be so much easier at the base,” Zim whispered, going over to the counter to wet a clean dish towel in the sink before bringing it over. He softly rubbed around Dib’s face and arms, watching closely, hoping that the medicine would be taken in. Dib seemed to relax on the mattress, so Zim took it as a sign that the medicine was indeed working.

Zim left the dish towel on the side and began rubbing Dib’s chest up and down soothingly, watching his breath even out and the whistle disappear after a few minutes. He sighed with relief. It looked like Dib would recover, at least for now.

Without thinking much, he began to let his hands wander. They went from stroking Dib’s chest and arms to the neck and face, cupping his cheeks, tracing his lips with the thumb. Zim knew it was probably not a good idea to attempt anything beyond this with Dib while he had a potentially infectious disease in him, but he couldn’t help it. The moments where he could confidently touch him without fear of awakening him were so few and far between…

“I’m not letting you get this bad ever again,” he whispered, leaning in. “I’m gonna have camera drones follow your every move from now on. I don’t care how many you break, I don’t care if you hate being watched, I don’t even care if it intrudes on your 'privacy.’ I’ll spend every second of every day watching you if it means keeping you safe.”

He bit his own lips. “ _This was my fault._ I shouldn’t have left you unattended, _I shouldn’t have left you… alone_. I’m sorry. I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again.”

Dib felt so hot. The fever wasn’t giving in yet. Zim removed the bedsheets and climbed up on him, face pressed against his chest and arms tight around the back. He reached out with a metal leg, pulling the covers up on both, letting his PAK regulate his temperature in the hopes of not allowing Dib’s to rise too high.

_Please, let this be the correct medicine. Please, let it work_. Zim shivered, arms tight around Dib’s torso, trying very hard not to think on what would happen if this didn’t work. Or at least, trying to think of what else he could do to remedy it.

“I’m getting you back home,” he whispered, face pressed tight against Dib’s chest, his spiked heartbeats resonating in Zim’s core. “If you don’t get better soon I’m getting you home. And I’m getting a doctor. Several doctors. I’ll take over an entire hospital and force their whole staff to work on you only. I’m kidnapping the best medical experts your dirty and doomed race can offer, and they’ll heal you or they’ll die. I’ll work with them. We’ll use my technology. There’s no way you won’t get better. You’ll be _better than ever_ , you’ll be—”

A pair of arms surrounded his back, holding him down, wrapping tight around him. The knee-jerk reaction of stabbing through with a PAK leg out of fear was stopped in their tracks by the quick realization that these… _were Dib’s arms._

His legs raised, body turning to the side and curling around Zim. He was left speechless, completely taken by surprise. How long had Dib been awake?

Dib’s arms were shaking.

_“Why did you come to see me?_ ” The voice came out in a string, half muffled by the top of Zim’s head, and filled with so much emotion. It hurt just to hear.

“I was worried about you,” the simple response came. Dib’s body shook like a leaf in the wind. Zim could feel the tiny erect hairs on his arm scraping against the back of his head.

_“Why are you… taking care… of me?”_

“I want to see you get better. I want you to be healthy again.”

_“I’m not very healthy…not very healthy on the…regular.”_

“I know. I wish to heal that too.”

Dib’s hands held tighter. His heart was beating faster than Zim ever heard a human heart beat before. For a moment it scared him that it would climb up his throat and just run away.

_“That night in my car… that night of the blizzard. I wasn’t… wasn’t asleep.”_

Zim swallowed. “I know.”

He heard a shaky, almost whimpery gasp. Dib’s hands on his back began to rub up and down, as tight as he was holding him, and now it was Zim turn to get the full body shivers.

_“I wanted... wanted… wanted to do_ **_so much_ ** _that night.”_

Dib’s voice was hard to decipher between his ragged breaths. Zim felt his pelvis thrust into him, out of nowhere, and he almost melted on the spot. Hands were dipping under his uniform now, rubbing at the skin with trembling fingertips.

_“I’m doing it now,”_ Dib growled, thrusting into Zim’s crotch again. Zim let out a shaky mewl, making Dib respond with a groan. **_“Doing it all now.”_ **

The hands on Zim’s back creeped up to his shoulder, rubbing and touching with an intensity Zim had never experienced before from Dib. Not outside his own fantasies, at least. Part of him was afraid; where had this reaction come from so suddenly? It wasn’t like Dib anymore to be this unrestrained. But the crotch pressing against his nether regions, now spotting a sizable hard-on, was making a convincing case for why that shouldn’t matter.

Zim held tighter onto Dib’s back, hands clinging to his clothes, legs spread and hooked around his waist for full contact. The whole girth of Dib’s erection was now digging into his crotch over and over, making him breathe out nothing but gasps.

One of Dib’s hands traveled to the back of Zim’s head. It softly rubbed near his antennae.

_“Fuck, Zim… I’m sorry…”_

Zim just shook his head, pressing it harder into Dib’s chest. His spear began emerging from the slit between his legs, and he heard Dib gasp at the feeling of it growing and wriggling over his erection.

“Don’t be,” Zim whispered back, pressing himself into Dib hard enough to fuse their bodies. “I want this.”

_“M-me too,”_ the response, breathless, choked, came with a soft pet on the head from a very trembling hand. _“I want this… more than anything.”_

Dib’s other hand traveled down to Zim’s bottom, holding it firmly and pushing harder with each cadence of their hips. Zim whined and pressed his open mouth against Dib’s clothed chest, slightly afraid to bite down in case it’d somehow be too much for Dib. But he needed to do something, this grinding was driving him absolutely insane. His spear was so slick with juices, wriggling like mad, desperate to find something to hold onto, and he could feel the clear wet spot leaking through the front of Dib’s pants.

His hand traveled south, gripping the edges of those pants with deathly determination, but Dib was pressing their bodies so tightly together it was impossible to pull them down.

“Dib…Dib…” Zim tried to call his attention, maybe just slow the man down enough for them to free each other, but Dib was like a train off the rails with the breaks cut off. His fingers were digging into Zim’s left buttcheek, hips snapping back and forth in a clear thrusting motion, his mouth panting and moaning into Zim’s antennae. It just made everything worse, and Zim didn’t know how to slow him down without risking the moment, so he surrendered and kept just grinding right back in sync.

It wasn’t bad at all, to be honest. The heat between them, the brush of skin against skin where his uniform and Dib’s shirt had ridden up, the way Dib’s hips kept trying to dig into his navel and his own spear tried to reach for it: this was leagues better than anything he’d had for over ten years. Zim just closed his eyes, giving into the human’s ways. His antennae held onto his shoulders for dear life, and he could feel a tiny chirp resonating from the pits of his self.

_“Zim…Zim…”_ Dib’s voice kept calling his name, Zim responding with a whine and a little “Dib” of his own each time. He wanted to keep this moment, Dib saying his name with this tone, engraved forever in his brain. He couldn’t imagine ever forgetting it, to be frank.

Dib’s hands now lay firm on his hips, guiding their swing, and Zim was happy to follow suit. Dib was shaking, fingers digging into Zim’s flesh a little too hard, skin pearled with sweat, and Zim knew these were alarm bells but he also couldn’t stop. The space between their sexes was nothing but damp fabric and friction, and the feeling of Dib’s cock clearly twitching against him was enough to have him moan with delight. The strength of his pushes was starting to move Zim’s whole body back and forth, contact so intense that even his lower slit was becoming excited. If this kept going like this, there was a chance he could finish through both places at once, and that possibility alone had him seeing stars.

**_“Need you.”_ **

The words came as a surprise, more for their suddenness than their content. Zim dared peek up at Dib’s face, just to find his eyes tightly shut and face wholly red. The blood in his veins began to boil. Was Dib even aware of what he was doing right now? Was this all a fever dream for him? Zim was scared to find out.

_“Need you. Want you. Forever. Zim. Zim. Zim.”_

The string of words became a mantra, the mantra became a plea. Zim could do nothing but answer each with a reassurance.

_I need you too. I want you too. You’re mine. You’re mine, forever. Dib. Dib. Dib._

The last words became a choked gasp, Dib’s frantic and ruthless grinding and painfully tight hold onto Zim’s hips came suddenly to a halt as his whole body was taken over by a bone-rattling orgasm. The wetness between them suddenly grew tenfold, taking Zim by surprise. He could only keep still, Dib’s hips and cock twitching against his as he came. He wasn’t close yet, spear still trying to break through the constraints of his own pants, but after just a few moments of squirming Dib straight up slumped down. His whole body became limp, his hold on Zim broke, and he released a long, deep sigh.

It took Zim a whole minute of silence and stillness to notice that Dib had, indeed, just passed out again. Zim couldn’t remember the last time he had cursed in his native tongue this loud.

————–

Consciousness came back to Dib what felt like days later. He opened his eyes, staring at the same moldy spot on the ceiling of his apartment for several minutes before the wiring on his brain began to reconnect and reality materialized around him.

He noticed things one by one as his eyes trailed down from the ceiling. His lights were on. A small machine of unknown origin was hooked to wires in a corner, lights over it blinking here and there. His electrical space heater was hooked to it, humming softly as it worked.

Dib dared attempt to pull his covers down. Every muscle hurt to move, but the pain was largely bearable. The room was warm, even without the covers on. And it smelled like… like...

Yeah, that was the brand of spray perfume Zim always spammed all over the house part of his base.

As soon as Zim’s name entered his mind, Dib sprung up, sitting straight and looking all around him. He was alone, Zim was nowhere to be seen.

A dull pain threatened to spread through his chest, but the view of his sparklingly clean apartment kept him confused enough to distract him from it.

The floors were shiny and spotless, as were the kitchen counter and everything else his eyes could reach. Even the walls seemed to have been scrubbed considerably. The only place that had not been touched much was Dib’s computer setup, clean of crumbs and stains but not altered otherwise that he could see.

Dib toyed with his covers, baffled by the sight around him, and soon noticed that his covers too felt soft and clean. His pillow was also fluffed up, and the case smelled of fabric softener. He brought it up to his face and sniffed deep, mind still trying to piece everything together.

His fever was gone, throat less raspy too, and despite how tired and hurt he felt all over it was clearly just the last stages of recovery. He brought his shirt up to his nose, smelling the fabric softener there as well, noticing even his underwear felt clean. Dib blushed, trying not to let himself linger on that thought for long just yet as he continued surveying his surroundings.

There were some items next to his bed as well. A full bottle of clean water with a sippy cup (a…sippy cup???), a little container with what looked like pills, and a bigger container with a fork resting atop it. This last one had a note taped to it, written in Zim’s handwriting.

**_Dib-stink:_ **

_Your dosage is one pill every eight hours, you took the last one at six o'clock so the next ones go at two and ten. Do NOT miss them. And stay in bed for as long as you can. There’s lunch in this Tupperware Container, and I left many sandwiches on the fridge for you. Most are on the freezer, they should last you the week_

_I’ve placed a camera on your wall and I’m keeping an eye on you. If you don’t do as I say,_ **_I WILL_ ** _take you to my lab. You can feel free to take it down as soon as you’re done with your meds._

_Heal up or_ else _._

**_Zim_ **

Dib’s eyes quickly darted to the walls of his room in search of the camera, noticing it quickly above his computer setup, pointed straight at him as it perched on the wall like a big ol’ metal spider. He flipped it the bird, out of habit more than anything, but the truth was a good part of him felt cozy and warm inside. He reread the note over and over, thumbing over the words, eyeing the contents of the Tupperware once his stomach noises began to annoy him enough. He brought it up to eye level, turning it here and there, trying to figure out what was inside. The semi-transparent plastic wasn’t helping much, however, so he eventually gave up and carefully got the lid off.

The smell hit him first. Yeah, that was homemade chicken pasta salad alright. Sure looked like it, Dib thought as he shuffled it around with the fork, the texture and appearance much better than any pasta salad he’d ever gotten at a store. Feeling daring, he stabbed a few pieces of chicken and pasta with the fork.

_“Better get the poison detector. Surely Zim put something inside.”_

There it was again, the demon. Dib knew it would be wise to at least get a bit of the food tested before digging in but to be honest, he was too hungry. And tired. And if this ended up killing him, well, wasn’t that good? Wasn’t that the consensus, that him being dead was good? Shrugging, he brought the fork to his mouth.

Zim had put something in, after all. He’d put in some DAMN GOOD DRESSING **HOLY SHIT!!**

Dib stared at the salad perplexedly, eagerly stabbing some more. When in all hells had Zim learned to cook? Granted, pasta salad wasn’t rocket science, but Zim clearly didn’t have a human’s palate and couldn’t understand a thing about what humans liked to eat. How had he managed to make it so tasty?!

The demon said something, but fortunately Dib’s stomach was screaming much louder. He wolfed down at least half of the contents of the Tupperware in less than five minutes, before stopping to sip some water and let his thoughts finally settle and be addressed, one by one.

A generator! That’s what the thing hooked in the corner of his room was! Dib stared at it again, remembering the times he’d seen them being used to power things like doorways and small traps in Zim’s contraptions. He was pretty used to piecing them together and pulling them apart by now. He’d always wanted to steal one for himself.

“Zim’ll probably take it back as soon as you recover, no chance on him letting you keep his tech!”

There was a pile of clothes neatly folded on a stool near the door. Seemingly all his stuff, and looking freshly laundered. Did Zim do his laundry too?

“I bet he had to put on a hazmat suit to deal with your filth.”

Dib bit his lips, sipping some more water. It felt strange, sitting in such a clean room. It was weirder that it happened to be his apartment.

“Such a shame, really. He put so much effort into leaving this place spotless, and yet you’ll make a mess of it in just a few days. All his hard work for nothing. You truly are not worth caring for.”

Dib hugged his legs. He wanted to go back to sleep. Bit his lips once again, and finally noticed how…numb…they felt. A bit swollen too, like he’d been stung by a bee but without the pain.

Did he wake up like this? He eyed the pasta salad leftovers with anguish.

“Told you he’s probably poisoned it. Made it taste real good too, just to trick you into not thinking. You fell right into his trap.”

_“Maybe he kissed you,”_ the tiny voice dared. His heart jolted. _“He kissed you so much your lips were left numb.”_

The demon cackled, sending shivers down Dib’s spine.

**_“Really?_ ** He made you food, got you medicine, cleaned all your shit up and kissed you in your sleep? Like you’re fucking Sleeping Beauty and he’s your dashing prince turned butler? A very Zim thing to do, no doubt. Zim is very well known for his ability to care for others and his kissing proficiency, sure.”

Dib felt his lips with his fingertips. The demon went on.

“What else do you think he did while you slept? He changed your clothes too, right? Did he _touch you_ while you were asleep and defenceless?? What a nice guy, that Zim. Maybe he did you a favor and rid you of your virginity as well. Of course, he’d only touch you while you were unconscious because you’re unbearable when you’re awake.”

The tiny voice was gone. Dib didn’t want to think anymore, but the thoughts kept coming.

Was the food really poisoned? Did Zim do something to the sandwiches in the fridge? Or maybe the medicine wasn’t really medicine? Maybe his threat of taking him away was because he would rather see Dib hurt himself with the stuff he left around…

But…but Zim wanted to see him healthy…. didn’t he? He wanted his adversary back, wanted Dib in top condition for their eventual battle to the death. What sense did it make to put so much effort into healing him to then just turn around and make it difficult to happen?

A clean room was better to recover in than a dirty one. He needed fuel for his body to heal, and wasn’t in a position to cook much. Zim had even written down the dosage of pills he had to take, if he really wanted to hurt him doing any of this made no sense….

The demon grew angry.

“It’s a **TRICK.** **_IT’S ALWAYS A TRICK WITH ZIM._** Just because it’s not obvious how he’s gonna fuck you over, doesn’t mean he won’t _definitely_ fuck you over. You’ve stopped him far too many times already without him claiming a single victory over you. He’s pissed, he’s frustrated, and he hates you. He’s gonna use as long and insidious of a tactic to get back at you as he can. ”

Dib’s heart sunk. He peered at the camera once more.

“He knows you like him. You let him know already, remember your stupid slip up? That night of the blizzard?. Surely he knows how all the stuff he’s doing is affecting you. And that’s his goal, in the end. Defeating you, taking over Earth, impressing his Tallest. You’re the roadblock he has to get over for a chance at a better life among his people.”

Dib looked away. The entire sight of his room hurt, now. He laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling once more.

“You’re only a human. A tiny, pitiful, insignificant little worm for him to squash. And he’ll squash you. He’ll lift you up just to tear you down, so it’s sweeter for him. A person with even an ounce of self respect would stop loving such a monster, don’t you think?”

Dib touched his lips. He wanted to think about a kiss. Only think about a kiss. A tear was threatening to escape.

“But you won’t. You’re too pathetic and stupid to take the hint. Your life is so sad and worthless you don’t have anyone in it other than your literal worst enemy. _And he’s too good for you._ **_Everyone is.”_ **

———

Back in his base, Zim stared through the camera and saw Dib curl into himself, like every time the bad thoughts assaulted him. His distrust of Zim was probably coming right back.

He sighed with frustration. How much longer could he bear to keep the ruse up? And what would it take for Dib to… _believe?_

It was better for him not to think, for now. The sleeping drugs in the water should be kicking in soon enough.

Hopefully, Dib would find some peace in his dreams. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wanna give a huge thanks to Syrupwit on Tumblr for betaing this, and also to Liddibit, Arneybley2 and Clampshell on Discord for also helping me give this a once over before it goes live. I couldn't have done wit without you, guys!! <3


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